I Was Sorrow
       

I was sorrow but sorrow acquitted me of lust
I was a doctor but I was the blue stone
Inside of twilight's thrush
At the lip of the storm I lay down my ancients
Life full of child so no child crisped in me
Was I salt but the answer
Was the sun a missionary of the sea
I said, Would you rather, or, The moon topped off
Kept my breath in a vial round history
And soft was the web bearing down

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Copyright © 2021 Anne Marie Rooney All rights reserved
from Bennington Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission